


A little bit of this, a little bit of that

by belmanoir



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dean/Sami, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, references past Sami/Kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Sami and Dean are sharing a dressing room, since they were tagging tonight. Sami is currently trying not to fume too obviously over the match, in case Dean feels bad about getting rolled up, and also trying not to creepily stare at Dean, who just dropped his towel on the floor and tugged his jeans on commando. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean pulls his undershirt on and shrugs into his jacket. “Hey, Sami, I was hoping to ask this in a more celebratory atmosphere, but...you wanna come back to my room?”</em>
</p><p>Set after the April 21 Smackdown tag match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Sami and Dean are sharing a dressing room, since they were tagging tonight. Sami is currently trying not to fume too obviously over the match, in case Dean feels bad about getting rolled up, and also trying not to creepily stare at Dean, who just dropped his towel on the floor and tugged his jeans on commando. Sami tries to decide if they’re the same jeans he wrestled in or a fresh pair.

Dean pulls his undershirt on and shrugs into his jacket. “Hey, Sami, I was hoping to ask this in a more celebratory atmosphere, but...you wanna come back to my room?”

Sami narrows his eyes. The whole day has been like this. He’d swear Dean’s hitting on him, but it’s impossible to tell! Maybe Dean just naturally has a very sexual energy and it’s not personal. Or maybe it’s Sami. Maybe sexual frustration is driving him round the bend and Dean’s being totally normal. 

He feels Swerved by the whole thing, honestly. “To do what?” he asks warily.

“Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Dean grabs his own crotch, thrusts his hips forward, and winks. 

It’s a mark of how surreal today has been that Sami feels the need to clarify further. “You want to hook up.”

Dean does that weird hearty chuckle of his. “Whatever you kids are calling sex these days. You’re very literal, has anybody ever told you that?”

Sami’s first reaction is overwhelming relief that Dean _has_ been hitting on him and the world makes sense after all. His second reaction is _I’m actually a year older than you, Dean_ , but he’s said that about fifty times already with no effect.

His third reaction is _I really don’t want to go home alone again._

“Here, lemme give you a sample of the merchandise.” Dean tips up Sami’s chin and leans in. A brief brush of lips, a pause to see if Sami objects, and Dean launches into a series of intent but unaggressive openmouthed kisses. 

Sami’s a little surprised by how fast he gets into it. Dean feels...vibrant. Focused.

Safe. 

Dean feels safe.

Dean pulls back. “Unless you want to take things slow. You seem like the kind of guy who might want to buy me roses first, and I don’t know where we’d find an open florist this time of night.” 

“No,” Sami says firmly. “I mean, yes. I’d love to. Come back to your room.” He barely stops himself from adding, _And have sex._

“Good man.” Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, Dean slouches off, turning back in the doorway to crook an impatient finger at Sami.

Sami, buzzing a little, fights an urge to say _Why wait? Let’s do this right now!_ He hurries after Dean. “Nothing too athletic, though," he says, remembering that Dean wanted to name their tag team ‘the Rough Riders’. “I’ve got enough bruises for one evening.”

Dean shrugs. 

*

Sami’s taken aback by how neat Dean’s hotel room is. He sets his bag down, feeling awkward. Probably he should have left it in the car. He wasn’t thinking, he just carries it everywhere with him. Does he look presumptuous now? Like he expects to be asked to spend the night? Should he say something?

Dean tosses his jacket on the chair. “What do you want?”

“Um...” Sami freezes. He’s not used to having to explain that. All he can think of is what they already did, Dean’s lips warm on his. “Kiss me.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, okay.” It’s a startlingly unfiltered, happy smile. Something in Sami’s chest itches and pulls like raw new skin, that he can still make someone happy. 

Dean laces their fingers together and drags him to the bed, plopping against the headboard and yanking Sami down to straddle him. 

Sami loves kissing, and he appreciates that Dean takes his request seriously and doesn’t skimp. When Dean pauses to spit in his hand, Sami is a little embarrassed by the sound of his own panting. But he only has to hear it for a few seconds, because Dean expertly slips him the tongue as he works a hand into Sami’s pants.

*

Sami remembers his manners a few long moments before he can actually lift his head from Dean’s shoulder. “What do _you_ want?” His tongue feels too big for his mouth.

Dean tilts his head, considering. “How would you feel about giving me a blowjob?”

“Yeah, okay.”

There’s an angry red scrape on Dean’s thigh where he got yanked down onto the ropes in tonight’s match. Sami almost apologizes—as if he’s still with Kevin, still somehow responsible for his behavior. 

“Kinda cool-looking, huh?” Dean pokes it and winces. “That’s gonna chafe tomorrow.”

“You could wear workout pants,” Sami suggests, just to see what he’ll say.

He laughs like Sami’s teasing him...which Sami guesses he is, actually. “Nice one.”

Dean keeps up a running patter of encouragement while Sami goes down on him. Kevin used to do that too, and Sami can’t help hearing his hoarse _Oh god, I’m ordering you to never stop doing that, fuck, Sami, get in there, yeah_ overlaid on Dean’s cheerful _You’ve got a mouth on you, baby_. But he powers through until Dean lays a hand on his head. 

Sami flinches.

Dean pulls his hand back, his hips going still. Not wanting to be asked if he’s okay, Sami redoubles his efforts. Dean lets himself be distracted, his head thunking hard against the headboard.

But Sami’s pretty sure he would have asked. That isn’t a _bad_ thing, right?

*

“You want to crash?” Dean casually indicates the beds with his thumb. “There’s two if you don’t want to split one.”

“Sure. Yeah, I should probably take the other bed.” Sami hopes Dean’s feelings aren’t hurt, but he’s not really ready for...that. “I, um, I’ve been told I’m a blanket hog. And just to warn you, it’s going to be hard to wake me up tomorrow.”

Dean snorts. “Not sure I’d take Kevin Owens’s word for who’s a blanket hog. That boy never learned to share.”

Sami blinks. Part of him is shocked that Dean would just come out and say that, and part of him is like _Whoa, he’s right._

Dean wanders around the room collecting his toothbrush and floss from odd places. Why was his toothpaste under the pillow? Were they just sitting on it? He stops to peer into the mini-fridge. “You want a beer?”

“I don’t drink, remember?”

He expects Dean to push it, but Dean just says, “Oh yeah. Cherry Cola?” He pokes around. Things rattle and thump. “Half-frozen hot pocket? Uh...Oreo?”

In the fridge? “I could eat an Oreo.”

Dean tosses the sleeve at him. Sami catches it and finds himself smiling.

*

Next day, Dean casually shoulders Sami’s duffel bag as well as his own. He pretends to stagger under the weight. “What do you keep in here, rocks?” 

Sami guesses they’re dating now. Yeah, okay. He tries to mentally adjust, letting himself laugh at Dean’s clowning.

Dean beams at him, sticking out his tongue. A hot little spark lights in Sami’s chest. It’s been so long since that spark felt warm and toasty. Lately all it’s done is scorch, sear, char his lungs to ashes.

He takes a deep breath. Yeah. Okay.


End file.
